


i'll quench your thirst (just close your eyes and dream about it)

by loftylou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (it's very light but i might as well tag it), Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Body Worship, Bondage, Dom/sub Undertones, Fingering, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Teasing, oh my god there's so much teasing, this is literally just 10k of harry worshipping louis's body because that's what i'm about
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 23:28:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5183744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loftylou/pseuds/loftylou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for the prompt: Everyone thought playing Cops and Robbers while they were drunk off their asses would be fun. Harry knew that the word for finding Louis on the floor, hands tied behind his back and wriggling around desperately was not fucking <i>fun</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'll quench your thirst (just close your eyes and dream about it)

**Author's Note:**

> so this is written off of a prompt my friend angie gave me (i hope you like it!) and it was originally just going to be 2k of kink and it turned out way longer than that and turned into them having super cute sex so! no complaints here
> 
> special thanks to faith, who screamed with me about this fic for two whole days.
> 
> title from "Two Weeks" by FKA Twigs.

Harry's not exactly sure where inside this ginormous house he is, or where they found the police costume hat, or how many cups of the spiked lemonade concoction he's had, but he's currently skipping through some long hallway with the hat atop his long hair, properly drunk and giddy.

He's at a small house party, about twenty or thirty people in total, at one of Niall's friend's admittedly not small house. It's practically a mansion, Harry had said and the friend had laughed, _my parents barely even come here! They like our house up north so much more_. Harry had chuckled along, and then thinking about his and Lou's tiny apartment with shoddy heating, got another drink.

Everyone else had the same idea, and in almost an hour, they were all plastered. They had music going and were all laying about on some expensive white couches, giggling and spilling their drinks. Most of the people here were strangers, rich girls and uppity boys that Harry didn't really think were Niall's type of crowd, but Louis and Liam were here, too, and their presence made him relax a bit.

Liam was actually the one who suggested they play the game in the first place. Louis was retelling the story of when he got arrested his first year at Uni with Zayn, _for graffiti, honestly, how predictable_ , and of course everyone there was hanging on every word he said, Harry included, when a giggly Liam started smacking his arm and yelled, "We should play Cops and Robbers! You know, that tag game, where- uh- some people are cops and the others are, like, robbers and you catch them."

Louis had burst out in cackles, breathing out, "What, to make me relive that fantastic experience, Liam?"

"I'm serious, Lou, I've heard it's fun to do at parties and stuff," Liam trailed off to take another sip of his beer.

"That's not a bad idea, really. It might be fun," Niall said, then directed his attention to the party hostess. "Don't ya think, Mel?"

She fervently agreed, and everyone else followed. Bressie, another one of Niall's friends, stood up then. "Alright, well, let's pick teams then."

Louis and Liam both shot up, stating, "I wanna be captain!" Louis sneered at him, then, sticking his tongue out. Liam rolled his eyes and shoved the smaller boy a bit.

"Louis can be the captain of the robbers and Liam's the captain for the cops," Bressie responded. A few people chuckled, and Niall began perking up then.

"Oh, Lou, pick me please! I wanna be a robber, I wanna be bad!" This sent a couple of the drunker girls into hysterics, the vodka lemonade sloshing messily over the white couches.

They began picking teams, Liam calling out the names of people he knew and pointing at the others he didn't. When he called Harry's name, Louis immediately began protesting. "Hey, no! I get Harry," he whined, whipping around to face Harry. "I want you on my team." He was pouting, like a small child being told no. He often got needy and petulant like this when he was drunk, and it was adorable. Harry cooed, wrapping his arms around Louis's waist to bring him down into his lap.

"Aw, Lou, I wanna be on your team, too," he said after nuzzling his head into the boy's neck. He looked up at Liam, eyes wide and pleading. "Can I pretty please be on Lou's team?" Some guy started making retching noises and he couldn't tell if it was directed at them or if he was actually being sick on the floor.

Liam put his hands on his hips sternly. "Nope. I've chosen you as an officer of the law. You can't switch now." The others behind him nodded along.

Louis shifted on top of Harry's legs and turned his head towards Liam. "Whatever, sourpuss. I've chosen an exciting life of crime, I don't need to associate with you goody-goodies." He pushed himself off of Harry's lap, despite the boy's protests, and surveyed the room. "Okay, everyone else is on my team- the better team, obviously." The remaining people moved behind Louis and started chatting excitedly.

Liam and Bressie began setting up rules and boundary lines for everyone, but were pretty lenient and straightforward, which was good, since all the players were still rather tipsy. While they laid them out, Louis crossed his arms and turned his nose up towards Harry, huffing out a haughty breath. Harry chuckled to himself and began flaring his nostrils and crossing his eyes, a look that was deemed his frog face. Louis's mouth twitched up in a slight smile, and Harry could see him biting the inside of his cheek to keep from giggling. He smiled widely at him and Louis's gaze turned predatory. "This is no laughing matter, Styles," he quipped smugly. Harry adopted a similarly steely expression and determined to himself that he would have to catch Louis, just for the sole purpose of wiping off that smug smile. Liam finally finished talking and Harry realized he didn't hear a word of the rules, but he was pretty sure he knew the main objective of this game. Robbers run and hide, cops chase and catch them. It's easy.

The robbers got a five minute head start, so after refilling their drinks or grabbing beers from the kitchen, they all stumbled down the hall or up the stairs to find hiding places. While the rest of the group waited, Melissa, who owned the McMansion, found a few prop cop hats and plastic handcuffs from a costume party she'd had a year or two ago. Everyone burst into a fit of giggles, Harry letting out a whooping cackle before covering his mouth with his hand. Liam gave him one of the hats and he modeled it for some of the girls, who began cheering for him and took pictures.

Finally, they set off to find the others. Since most of the robbers went down the hall, their group followed, but Liam dragged Harry along to find Louis and Niall upstairs. Harry's shoes clanged noisily on the marble staircase and he almost slipped more than once, but Liam's tight grip kept him upwards.

He could hear the squeals and yelps of people being found and the heavy footsteps of their running. Niall's booming laugh sounded from inside one of the doors farther down the hall once they reached the top of the stairs and Liam yelled, "C'mon!" to Harry before sprinting off in that direction. Harry stayed behind, sipping more of his lemonade, and instead began exploring the gigantic home.

That's how he ended up here, skipping down a hallway outfitted with abstract paintings. He caught Bressie, somehow, and two girls he didn't know, making them go back down into the kitchen. The game had been going on for about a half an hour and it's starting to wind down, the final robbers being cornered and captured from what he can hear. Harry's pretty tired and a bit confused, considering he has no idea where in the house he is. He hasn't seen anyone else for almost ten minutes and all the screams and shouts sound far away from him. He wants to turn back, but he hasn't seen Louis since the beginning of the game when he bounded up the stairs and he's getting lonely. He pulls out his phone- he's pretty sure that it's against the rules, but he really doesn't see the harm- and texts Louis _Where are you? I'm bored :( x_

He turns down another hall, slurping down the rest of his drink. He peeks into a couple doors to find a bathroom to toss out his cup and take a quick piss, before continuing. He finds another staircase at the end and stops. He should probably just go back downstairs now, since he can't hear anyone now and this might be out of the boundary zone, but Louis didn't respond to the text so he must still be in the game. Knowing Louis, he's probably found the greatest hiding spot that no one will ever guess and will then emerge later on, victorious and smug. Harry scoffs at the thought and, filled with tipsy ambition, vaults himself up the spiraling stairs.

To his annoyance, it's just another long corridor with closed mahogany doors. _Fucking rich people_ , he thinks and groans aloud. Surprisingly, he hears someone else groan in response. He startles and jumps, banging his hand against the wall in shock. He looks around for a minute, trying to decipher which of the rooms the sound came from, but his head is a bit too hazy with alcohol still, so he clutches onto his cop hat for emotional support and opens the first door on his left. It's just another bathroom, empty he finds when he flicks the light on. He shuts it off again and closes the door, moving on to the next door.

After the next two rooms prove to house no one as well, Harry calls out a unsteady, "Hello?" and hears a distinctly familiar voice respond with, "Help me, you wanker." Harry moves quickly to the end of the hall to where the sound came from and stops in front of the last door. "Lou? That you?"

"Yes, Harry, it's me. Get your arse in here and help me," Louis demands from behind the door. Harry hesitates for a minute, before the words _help me_ sink in and he's practically busting through the door.

It's pitch black in the room and even with the minimal light from the hallway, Harry can't see much. "Lou? Where are you?" He asks as he scans the walls for a light switch.

"I'm over here, will you hurry up?" Louis demands from farther in the room. Harry can't see him, can't directly pinpoint where he's at and it stresses him more than he'd like to admit. He finally smacks his hand upon the light switch and flips it on. He has to blink for a few moments when the room is filled with harsh light, but once his eyes have adjusted, he almost wishes they would've remained closed.

He's in a spare bedroom, one of the dozens that must be in this ridiculous home. It's cleanly decorated, with grey walls and dark hardwood flooring. There's a TV up on the wall, with another expensive looking white couch and a glass coffee table. A king size bed sits in the far corner, overflowing with white and grey comforters and throw pillows. There's a dresser, some nightstands, and a sculpture along the walls. All in all, it's a lovely room, and smack dab in the middle of it all, curled up on a white fur rug, is Louis.

Louis, his closest friend that he's known since his first year, since the first day of first year, actually, when he was carrying far too many boxes and stumbled over himself and into Louis. Even then, Louis was a whirlwind of energy and mischief. Harry had apologized for minutes on end and Louis, laying spread eagle on the floor, had raised an eyebrow and asked, "Have you quite finished? I'd like to get up from this dingy floor sometime soon." Harry dropped the rest of his belongings and offered a hand out to pull the boy up. He dusted himself off and had simply said, "Thanks, Curly", pulling on a strand of Harry's hair and sauntered off. Needless to say, Harry was a bit overwhelmed. Even more so when he discovered they were sharing a dorm and Louis laughed for nearly five minutes before properly introducing himself. "I'm Louis Tomlinson. We're the same age, unless you've skipped a grade which, in that case, congrats to you. I'm from Doncaster, I love footie, and you have the wonderful privilege of being my roommate." They're still roommates, and have been best friends for three years, and Harry has fancied Louis just a bit the entire time.

Because, how could he not? Louis is attractive, well, _wildly_ attractive, if you ask him. He's got sharp features and pretty blue eyes and a compact little body with thick thighs and an even thicker arse. It was bigger when they were in second year, before Lou had started working out as heavily for football, but it's still round and magnificent and ridiculously edible.

And even though he's easily one of the best looking people Harry's ever seen, he's fancied him mostly for the way they just work. Honestly, they've been living together for three years now and are practically attached at the hip. Harry's never been closer with anyone- not even his sister- in his life, and it's the same for Louis. They love each other like nothing else, more than best friends should, and they talk about it all the time. Louis has even said that _well, if I'm being honest here, Harry, we're it. I'm serious, you're it for me, you always have been_. He was high, of course, but ferociously sincere. And to anyone else, the confession would be too much, too emotional for someone who is supposed to be your friend, but Harry knows. He's always known that at the end, it would be them. That's just how it would be once they finally talk about it. He just didn't think this would be how he would reveal his feelings.

Louis is lying face down, arse up on the rug. The curve of his back is, well, sinful and showcases his thin, delicate waist. His hands are behind his back and resting atop of the base of his spine, and Harry can't look away. His head is facing away from Harry, so all he can see is his tousled, mousy hair hanging down. Harry moves closer to him, but stops and takes the step back. He doesn't understand why Louis is kneeling sensually by himself in an empty room on the third floor of a house he's never been in, but Harry's going to damn well appreciate it.

He clears his throat once, twice to clear the cotton that seemed to form and finally just says, "Lou?" Even so, his voice is much deeper, heavier than he expected.

Louis's head whips towards him and Harry can see now that there's a thin, black blindfold over his eyes. Harry moves a few steps closer and sees that there are ties around his ankles, thighs, and hands as well, efficiently binding him in place. Once again, Harry's throat goes dry and he's glad Louis has a blindfold on so he can't see how he's gaping at him. "Liam found me and he thought it would be funny to tie me up and leave me here," Louis spits out, venom evident in his voice. "The wanker!" He yells, probably hoping Liam will hear.

But Harry barely hears it, because all that's coming through his ears now is white noise. He's pretty sure he hasn't blinked since he entered the room and his palms are beginning to sweat. It's not like this is one of his ridiculous sex fantasies- with Louis tied up and blindfolded, pliant and panting, begging for more even though he can't see, doesn't know what he wants, what he needs, and Harry gives it to him so _good_ , so good Louis can't make any sounds except whines and whimpers and _please let me come, fuck, please, Harry_ \- except that it totally is and Harry has, shamefully, wanked to it on more than one occasion. It's just that, Louis is always so loud and fidgety and in control, so to see him, quietly whimpering and contained and controlled for once, would be such a turn on. It's probably why Harry's got a semi straining in his pants right now.

He realizes that Louis is talking to him now, has been for a bit, so clears the haze from his mind, which is now attributed to lust instead of alcohol. "Wh-what are you saying?"

"God, of course you're still drunk, ya big oaf. I said," he announces, putting emphasis on each word, "Untie me now. I'm starting to get uncomfortable." Even tied up like this without any kind of leverage, he still acts bossy.

Somehow, Harry manages to shut the door and cross the room to where Louis is lying. He can't stop staring at the absolutely insane curve of his back, how his arse is pushed up so obscenely because of it. He's pretty sure his brain actually short circuits then, and he shakes his head, trying to clear out these thoughts. His police hat flies across the room then, and lands on the floor with a thud. Louis jumps a bit, making his arse jiggle, which, c'mon, and asks, "What was that?"

But then Harry makes the connection between his hat and Louis's current situation and he can practically hear the cogs click into place. "No," he says.

Louis tries to turn head towards where Harry is standing behind him, a confused line most likely forming on his brow. "What?"

"No," Harry repeats steadily. "I'm not going to untie you. I'm a cop, remember?"

Louis scoffs incredulously. "Come off it, Haz. The game is over. Untie me." There is a commanding edge in his voice, but it does little to affect Harry's new demeanor.

"No, see, the game ends when the last robber is in the kitchen. And you're still up here, so it's not over. Those are the rules, Lou. You don't expect me to go against the rules, do you?" He asks with faux innocence as he silently drops to his knees next to Louis. He keeps eyeing the silk wrapping tied tight around Louis- he thinks it's probably some neckties or head wraps Liam nicked from one of the many bedrooms- and it's a whole other animal down here, being so close to him like this. He could just touch him now, trail his fingers over the curve of his back, slide his hands down his hips, dig his nails into the meat of his arse, but he doesn't. He just leans back and tries to control his breathing.

"Yes, I do! Seriously, Harry, this is getting uncomfortable," he whines with a haughty air.

"I can't, Louis, I swore an oath as a police officer." Louis scoffs. "If I untie you, you'll just escape and I can't let anymore robbers out on the street."

"God, shut up! Shut up! You're so," Louis huffs out before groaning. Harry watches as his shoulders sink into the plush fur rug. "I promise if you untie me, I won't run. I will walk calmly downstairs with you and you'll win. Please just let me go." He wiggles his hips for emphasis, swaying them back and forth and back and forth and-

And Harry's hands reach out on their own accord and latch onto Louis's hips. He keeps them there, even squeezes Louis's fleshy bare hips where his t-shirt had ridden up, before he realizes what he's done. Louis stills instantly, gulping in a huge breath. It hits both of them now, the predicament they're currently in, Louis tied up and blindfolded with his ass in the air, Harry kneeled next to his clamped legs and gripping his hips to steady him. It's extremely erotic, not something most friends do, but they weren't exactly most friends.

Finally, Louis breaks the stretching silence with a wavering, "What- what're you doing?" His voice is high, very breathy and turns Harry on impossibly more.

"Maybe I don't want to go downstairs," is what comes out of his mouth and it feels like an out-of-body experience. Harry is never dominant with Louis, always following him and doing what he wants, and he truly loves their usual dynamic, but this one has Harry so hard he thinks he might pass out.

He feels Louis shift under his hands, which span perfectly across his wide hips up to his narrow waist, feels him arch his back just the slightest bit more and God, is it a sight. "Don't you wanna win?" He hears Louis rasp out, voice even more unsteady.

Harry sees Louis turn his head towards him, his hair flopping carelessly against the rug, and hears the sharp intake of breath pass through his parted lips as he squeezes Louis's hips again. Harry simply mumbles, "wanna stay here" as he focuses back where he's touching the boy. He moves his hands up slightly to settle on Louis's waist. His fingers brush in the middle of his back and it makes Harry press down lightly. It still sends a shiver running through the smaller boy. Harry sits up and leans over Louis, his face hovering over his exposed neck. "Is this okay?" Harry asks, his words a husky whisper. Louis shivers again, making a small noise, and nods, and Harry feels like it's Christmas morning.

He presses light kiss to the nape of his neck, Louis letting out another soft noise, before kissing his neck again and again and again, ghosting his lips across the boy's shoulders. Louis's breathing is high and pitchy now, and all Harry wants is to hear him moan, sweet and loud and without restraint.

Harry begins trailing kisses down his back, following the curvature, just to work Louis up. He just buries his head into the rug and holds in his breath when Harry touches him. But when he presses his plush lips to the exposed skin at the bottom of his shirt, Louis finally whines and pushes his arse up even more. Harry smirks to himself and backs up, leaving Louis without touch. He whines again and looks back over his shoulder, blindfold still intact. "C'mon, Harry, come- come back."

Harry shakes his head, then remembers he can't see it. "Nope," he states. "Not until you ask nicely."

Louis lets out an exasperated breath and clenches his fingers together where they're resting on his back. "Harry, don't make me."

"Just say it, Lou. I want you to say it." His body is tensed now, and Harry hopes he hasn't overstepped some kind of boundary.

But Louis relaxes into the rug then, shoulders drooping as he chews on his lip for a moment. "Please," he whispers in such a soft, vulnerable voice that Harry practically pounces on him. Harry grabs onto the silk tie wrapped around Louis's wrists and tugs him back into his body. Harry places his hands back onto Louis's hips and inch lower, so they're resting just above his ass. Louis gasps and seems to try to spread his legs around Harry, but the ties around his ankles and thighs prevent him. "Harry, I-" he starts, then cuts himself off.

Harry begins to circle his thumbs soothingly into his bare skin and hums. "What, Lou?"

He digs his head into the rug again, his fingers fidgeting against his back. Harry sees a slight pink tinge begin to spread down his neck. He's obviously nervous, maybe a bit embarrassed about what he wants now, it all being so new and with Harry, so Harry gives an encouraging press of his fingers into his hips and a sweet kiss to his spine. "C'mon, love, what do you want?"

"Wanna see you," Louis gasps out, followed by a strained groan. "Wanna touch you, please, let me, I wanna feel you, Harry." The words pour out quickly in one breath and Harry rubs his back comfortingly.

"I've got you, love. Lemme get your legs, then," he says, getting to work on untying the silk tie from his ankles. He tries to be quick and efficient with it, but Liam must've been a goddamn boy scout when he was younger- or probably still is, if Harry's being honest with himself- because it takes him nearly two minutes to finally get the knot undone and free Louis's ankles. Louis sighs after the restraint is gone, rolling them around a bit, before Harry circles his fingers around them and trails lingering touches up to the tie around his thighs.

When that one comes undone as well, he gently tosses it in the direction of his police cap and places his hands along the back of Louis's thighs. They're so thick and meaty that Harry can't resist sinking his fingers into the fabric of his jeans and just kneading Louis's thighs. Harry lets out a low groan, which Louis responds to with a breathy, "God, Harry, your hands." He starts pushing back against the large hands on him and Harry moans again.

This continues for another moment or two, before Louis squirms under Harry's grip and Harry has to put pressure into his hold, forcing Louis's hips up slightly. "Stay still, babe. Be patient," he chastises him lightly, but Louis continues fidgeting and rolls his hips under Harry's hands.

"Wanna touch you, please," he begs again, his voice a bit slurred against the plush rug. Harry hums lowly and gives his thighs one last, longing squeeze before moving onto the ties around Louis's wrist. This one falls apart much easier than the last two, and when his wrists are free, Louis instantly reaches his fingers out for Harry. Harry tosses the silk cloth onto the floor and grabs his hands, twining their fingers together. Louis sighs and turns his head over his shoulder. "I want this, God, I want this."

It hits Harry so hard in the gut, this real, honest confession, that he can't breathe for a moment, can't feel anything except pure affection for this boy under him. He presses their entwined hands into the rug and leans forward to kiss along Louis's shoulders again. He breathes out shakily and says, "I wanted this, wanted you, for so long, Lou," into the soft skin before biting down and sucking a mark into his neck. Louis tightens his grip in Harry's hand and moans, loud and pretty.

"Please, please, please," he chants, rolling his hips against Harry, who grinds up into him in return, his hard on straining painfully in his jeans. He leaves another bite along his neck, and hums into Lou's skin, taking in the sweet smell of lemonade rolling off his tongue. Louis manages to press his forehead against Harry's and whispers, "Let me see you."

Harry nods against him, and regretfully leans off of his body, retracting his fingers. He pushes Louis gently to lay flat on his stomach, before rolling him over onto his front. Harry sucks in a shallow breath when he sees just how affected Louis is, too. His thin lips are red and bitten raw, his whole neck, chest, and stomach are flushed pink, and his erection is nearly bursting out of his tight black jeans. Harry chokes out a, "God, Lou, look at you," when Louis spreads his legs as far as they'll go and lifts his arms above his head, his back arching accordingly. It's so sexy, so erotic, so utterly _submissive_ that Harry is in awe that he gets to see him like this.

Harry scoots himself up so he's kneeling in between Louis's legs and places his hands on either side of his head. He leans down to quickly nuzzle his head into Louis's neck and peck him there one more time. Louis makes a small, pleased noise and Harry grins widely. He gives him a little bite on his jawline and then straightens up again. Going down onto his elbows, he rests his weight on his left arm as he grabs the blindfold with the other and slowly lifts it off Louis's face, flicking over towards the pile of discarded silk.

And Louis has to blink a few times, to get accustomed to light in the room, but once he finally recovers and locks eyes with Harry, Harry feels like a supernova burst in his heart.

Because his eyes are so very blue, so very soft, and so very familiar. It's all he's ever seen in the last three years, a hurricane made of this blue, sweeping Harry up in its storm and never relinquishing its hold on him. It's the most beautiful color he's ever seen, and it's all he's ever wanted to see. _I'm serious, you're it for me, you always have been_.

He feels Louis's small hands come up and cup his cheeks, rubbing through the barely-there stubble forming on his jaw. Harry wants to close his eyes, hum along to the sweet touch, but he doesn't think he could ever look away from the soft expression on Louis's face right now. Then, he smiles, bright and airy with crinkles forming around his eyes, and Harry knows no force in the world could stop him from smiling back.

It's ridiculous, honestly, just smiling at each other and knowing that they're a sure thing. That it's always been them, always will be them. How Harry can feel so much love in one moment is so beyond him. And how this boy, this beautiful boy would be the one to reciprocate it could baffle the entire universe.

Louis giggles then. "Harry," he breathes out, his smiling never fading. "We've known each other for three years. How are we just now getting together?"

Harry shrugs and inhales, the breath he swallows sweet like summertime. "Because we're idiots, obviously."

Louis laughs, full bodied and loud, and tightens his grip on Harry's face. "Obviously," he repeats and surges up to press his lips against Harry's.

They're both smiling into the kiss, teeth clacking a bit too much to be sexy, but Harry doesn't care at all because he's kissing Louis.

They simply kiss sweetly like that for a few minutes, just dry presses of lips, before Louis swipes his tongue along Harry's plush bottom lip and from there, it gets a bit filthy.

They meet in the middle, hot tongues rolling against each other. Harry moans loudly and places both of his hands on the sides of Louis's neck, feeling how heated his skin has gotten. Louis whines lowly and wraps his legs around the back of Harry's thighs, trying to push himself upwards. Harry presses his body down flat, then, getting breathless at the feel of their limbs twined together, teases of bare skin against bare skin. It just riles Louis up even more, who currently has his hands tangled in Harry's long hair.

Harry kisses his lips one last time before dipping down and pressing his tongue into the dip of Louis's collarbone. Louis groans, using his hands as leverage to get Harry closer to him. He bites down and pulls Louis's shirt collar down to trail his lips along more of the soft, exposed skin. He hears Louis rasp out another, "please," before he adjusts them so his thigh is placed between Louis's legs. He presses up into Louis's clothed dick and Louis whimpers, angling his hips down and damn near riding Harry's thigh.

Harry is just about to whip Louis's shirt off and get his mouth on that fucking chest tattoo, making Louis even more desperate, when he hears the door slam aggressively into the wall.

They both jump, Louis gasping loudly- either from shock or the fact that Harry's thigh accidentally pressed even harder into his groin- and whip their heads to see Niall standing clumsily in the doorway, an unreadable expression on his face. Neither of them make any move to untangle themselves from each other, but simply stare wide eyed at the boy in front of them.

"Niall," Louis starts to say, but Niall isn't even sparing a glance towards the two of them. He's staring, rather wildly, at the large bed in the corner- where Louis and Harry should've been, admittedly, since atop a fur rug isn't the best place to have sex.

Niall drops the beer can he's holding, its contents spilling out onto the hardwood, before bounding over to the far side of the room and launching himself onto the bed. The duvet hisses loudly as it releases air and Niall sighs loudly, before snuggling into the comforter and passing out.

Harry continues to stare astounded at the bed for a few more seconds before turning to Louis to see him sporting a very similar expression. Louis fish mouths for a moment before turning to Harry and saying, "What?"

*

After disentangling their limbs and standing on unsteady legs, Louis tries to wake Niall up while Harry cleans up the beer spill and collects all the discarded items strewn around the room. Niall finally comes to again, lifting his head to ask, "Whassit?" before letting it fall back down. Louis sighs and begins to drag the blonde boy from the bed.

The two of them, still buzzing and ridiculously aroused, manage to walk Niall down two flights of stairs and those fucking endless hallways before stumbling back into the kitchen. Most of the partygoers either left or are in the living room lazing around on the couches, so Louis deposits Niall on one of the bar stools around the counter and goes about finding him some water while Harry tries to find Liam.

Liam is outside with three girls, all speaking animatedly about something in a way that only makes sense to a drunk mind. Harry taps him on the shoulder and is greeted with a loudly slurred, "Harry! Come and chat with all of us ladies!" This turns the girls into giggling messes next to him.

"Nice to meet you, girls," he responds brightly, then turns back to his friend. "C'mon, Liam, it's time to go. We've got to get you and Niall home," he says gently. Liam pouts but agrees, giving each girl a kiss on the cheek before saying goodbye. They reenter the house to find Louis struggling to keep Niall upright in the stool while Bressie furiously splashes water on him to keep him awake. Harry rushes over when Niall tips backwards, letting him fall into his arms. Niall grumbles a bit about being sodding wet before breaking free of Harry's grip and rushing to the sink to be sick. Liam and Bressie begin cooing at the poor boy and rubbing his back helpfully as Melissa runs over, squawking about the marble countertops.

Louis snorts loudly, which makes Harry turn to look at him quizzically. "I always forget how wild drunk people are," he clarifies.

Now it's Harry's turn to snort. "It's because you're usually drunk with them."

Louis raises an eyebrow at him and steps closer, laying his hands flat on Harry's chest. "Well, this time, we were doing something a little better, don't you think?" It's an innocent enough question, but it has arousal bubbling all throughout Harry's body. He nods and Louis smiles, clicking his tongue. "Why don't you go start the car? I'll make sure Liam and Niall get outside."

Harry shakes his head. "No, it's fine. I'll help."

"It'll be quicker if I just do it, and then we'll be home quicker and be able to finish some things." Louis bites his lip mischievously as he says it and Harry feels a tightness in his pants again. He nods this time and Louis smiles brightly at him, before turning away and seeing to Niall.

Harry watches him for a moment, collecting himself as his mind starts shouting _home, home, you have to get home_ , and he mumbles a quick goodbye to a still complaining Melissa before heading out the front door to his car.

His hand shakes a bit as he unlocks his car and slides inside, breathing shakily as he turns his key into the ignition. He waits for few minutes for Louis to appear, turning on the radio just to have some kind of background noise so his mind doesn't slip into a hazy fuzz.

Louis finally emerges out of the house with both bozos trailing behind him. Liam grabs Niall and runs them both up to the car excitedly, and nearly brains Niall as he throws the car door open. Harry winces and warns them to be careful as Liam flings himself inside while Niall simply gets in somberly and falls asleep against Liam's shoulder. Louis makes sure both of them have their seat belts on before shutting the back door and getting in the car himself. He huffs a breath out, muttering something to himself before turning to Harry with an inquisitive look. "You're alright to drive?" Harry nods, then backs the car out of the driveway and continues on down the street.

It's a relatively short drive back to Liam and Niall's apartment, but it feels like a lifetime. Louis thanks God that he doesn't have to listen to Liam's incessant chatter any longer after they've parked and Harry helps them both up the stairs to their shared apartment. Once they're inside, both of them saunter into their respective rooms and hopefully fall asleep. Harry releases a shallow breath and makes the trek back to his car. It's just going to be him and Louis now, no more drunken interruptions. A nervous buzz flits through his body, along with a deep seeded pang of arousal. He's going to get Louis all alone and he's going to get to _fuck_ him. A groan escapes his lips as the car comes back into view.

He slips inside just as Louis is changing the radio station, a determined look on his face. Harry pulls away from the curb and onto the relatively empty street, his fingers tapping shakily against the steering wheel.

Louis settles on a station just returning from a commercial, the DJ making a few comments about the song choices before playing something Harry's never heard before. The bass is low and gritty, playing out a beat that Harry instantly feels the need to grind to. A woman's voice comes on then, breathy and practically moaning through the speakers. The air in the car changes then, and Louis notices it as well. It's dirty and charged and makes Harry take one hand off the steering wheel and place it high up on Louis's clothed thigh. He squeezes the meat here and Louis breathes out heavily, sliding his own hand atop Harry's and beginning to roll his hips along to the bass.

Harry's never been so glad for the minimal traffic at two a.m. because he feels like he's been hard the entire night and watching Louis grip his fingers and grind filthily into the seat is something he can barely take his eyes off of. Louis throws his head back, mouth open and hot little breaths pouring out. He closes his eyes and tightens his hold on Harry's hand. "Hurry up."

Harry lets out his own shaky breath and puts both hands back on the wheel. "We'll be there in a minute, I promise."

Louis whines, stubborn and childlike, and pouts his lips out. "Hurry up, Harry," he repeats. "Need you to fuck me." Harry starts accelerating.

They get back to the apartment- their apartment- in record time due to Harry's speeding and Louis starts smacking on the dashboard when Harry takes longer than a second to parallel park in front of the building. He dashes out of the car before Harry has even parked it and bounds up the stairs. Harry shuts the car off, locks it, and saunters across the sidewalk up to where Louis is leaning up against the front door to their building, head back and neck bared. It's a heavenly sight, really.

Harry takes his time going up the steps before finally getting to the stoop and looming over Louis. He looks up at him with such innocent, intent eyes that Harry honestly forgets that they're about to go into their apartment and fuck like animals for a moment. But then, Louis is winding his arms around his neck and tugging on Harry's necklace to pull him down into a heated kiss.

It's two in the morning on a Sunday and the temperature is dropping rather rapidly and Harry's got Lou pressed against the entrance to their apartment building, tongue licking fervently into his mouth and making these hot little sounds come out of his throat. He honestly didn't think all this would be attributed to a drunken game of Cops and Robbers, but he's never one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Louis whines then, pulling back from the kiss. "Get your key out, I'm cold," he says after giving Harry's lip a sharp bite.

Harry smiles widely at him. "Don't worry, I'll warm you up real soon, babe," he responds as he digs in his pockets for his set of keys and sticks it into the lock. Louis simply rolls his eyes, calling him a "goddamn cheese ball" before pushing the door open and crossing the entryway quickly. Harry follows him and curses when Louis begins climbing the stairs excitedly. "We have an elevator, you know," he remarks, walking up the stairs as well.

Louis looks down at him over the second floor bannister and grins wolfishly. "I know. I just wanna get you a little sweaty," he says, and then breaks out into a cackling run up the rest of the stairs. Harry curses again, taking the steps two at a time.

After reaching the fifth floor, where their goddamned apartment is, he sees their apartment door is open, key still in the lock. Harry moves across the hall to 5B, pockets the key, and enters the dark apartment. There's no noise inside, but when he flicks the dim, flickering overhead light on, he sees Louis sitting on their kitchen counter, his shoes flung across the tile underneath him. They make eye contact as Harry toes off his own boots and crosses the small apartment, heavy eyes never leaving each other.

Harry stops at the archway leading into the kitchen, leaning his side against it as he drinks Louis in. His legs are crossed at his dainty ankles and his head is extended back, his neck and collarbones on display. He's a delicious sight and, as he steps down from the counter and tiptoes over to where Harry is standing, Harry is reminded how much smaller he is than him. Sure, he's only got a few inches on him and Louis is very decently built, but Harry's just bigger and broader and it's turning him on so severely.

Louis finally steps right in front of him and, having to tilt his head to look directly at Harry, catches the boy's chin between his thin fingers. "You want me?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. Harry nods quickly, but Louis narrows his eyes and pulls on his chin, dragging his lower lip down with it. "Words, H."

"You know I do, Lou. Want you so bad," he groans out, placing his big hands on Louis's waist and pulling him into his body.

Louis tilts his head and moves both of his hands onto Harry's neck, rubbing his thumbs over his Adam's apple. "How long?"

Harry bites his lip for a minute, then smiles. "Ever since I slammed your arse into our dorm hall floor in first year." It brings a loud snort from Louis, who then buries his head into Harry's chest, taking in a deep breath. "How long?" He parrots.

He feels Louis shake his head against his t-shirt. "Never wanted you," he states plainly, but Harry can hear the teasing in his voice.

He squawks indignantly anyway, pressing his fingers harder into Louis's waist. "Don't lie," he pouts.

"Not lying," Louis responds. "You're the big oaf who tackled me the first time you saw me. I'm still pretty mad at you, really."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Been holding a nasty grudge against ya all these years. I was planning to cut off all your hair in your sleep or something." His tone is sharp and biting but the way he's dragging his thumbs across Harry's neck in slow circles can only be described as soft, sweet, _loving_.

"You think about what you wanna do to me often?" Harry asks teasingly, but he feels Louis take in a shaky breath against his chest and he smirks to himself. "Do you, then? How often Lou?"

Louis tries to shake his head, starts to ramble, "I don't, I-" before Harry puts his hands on Louis's arse and squeezes. He lets out a small whimper, then falls silent.

Harry continues. "I know you do, 'cause I have. God, Lou, I think about you all the time. At night, in the shower, I think about your hot little body every second of the day. You get me so hard, baby," he rasps out, kneading Louis's ass under his fingers. Louis has started to rub himself against Harry's thigh, letting out puffs of frustrated breaths. "Do you get yourself off to the thought of me? The thought of us? I bet you do; touch yourself thinking about all the things I'd do to you." Louis moves his hands down to Harry's shoulders and digs his sharp nails into the skin, whining in earnest now. Harry rocks along with Louis's body and leans down, breathing hotly over the boy's ear and watching him shiver. "You think about me sucking you off? Blowing your pretty cock? Or do you think about me eating you out, mouth all over your arse and making you fall apart on my tongue?" He tightens his grip on Louis's ass and Louis cries out, moving his hips faster.

"No, I bet you just think about me fucking you, nice and hard and so fucking good." Louis thrashes his head against his chest and begins cursing in a breathy voice. "You want that, then? To be split open on my cock and let me have my way with you?" He takes one hand off of Lou's ass and grabs his chin, tilting it so he can look into his eyes. He's so desperate, so needy and Harry has to bite his lip so he doesn't come at the sight. "You want my cock then?" Louis closes his eyes and breathes in deep, then nods. "Say you think about it, Lou. Say you think about me inside you."

It's like a dam breaks, and everything Louis kept caged in comes charging out in that moment. His eyes become wild as he clutches Harry's face, still rolling his hips against Harry's. "I think about you. Fuck, I get off to the thought of you fucking me all the time. I know it would be so good, and you'd fuck me 'til I'm screaming and seeing stars and all that shit, but I know you'd take good care of me, too. And just thinking about that now, I'm harder than I've ever been in my life so stop fucking talking about it and do something."

They crash together in a wave of limbs and tongues, hot breaths and gasps. Harry hoists Louis up in the air and Louis squeaks, wrapping himself around Harry like a koala. Harry presses him back into the wall and presses himself into Louis, feeling how hard he is through his jeans. They both groan, grinding against each other. Louis digs his nails hard into Harry's shoulders and starts chanting, "Bed, bed, c'mon, Haz."

They kiss deeply as Harry carries him easily into his own room and lays him out on the messy duvet. Harry stands at the foot of the bed and watches as Louis splays himself out across the mattress, spreading his legs and reaching his arms above his head to grip the headboard. It's the same pose he did when he was lying on the fur rug earlier, and it fills Harry with a sense of urgency. They got interrupted then, rather rudely, and he'll make sure it won't happen again. He slides his socks off and whips his shirt over his head before climbing on the bed and kneeling between Louis's spread thighs.

He places a few open mouth kisses on his lips before traveling down to his neck and sucking a deep mark into the skin. Louis moans and paws at the hem of his red shirt, tearing it off his body and throwing it across the room. Harry sets a heavy hand down onto his chest and presses him back into the bed, scanning his chest hungrily. He's always loved his tattoo, even imagined his come sprawled across the cursive writing while wanking. He leans down and bites down on the skin right under his collarbone. Louis squirms, sinking his fingers into Harry's hair and tugging. Once Harry's satisfied with the deep red marking on his chest, he surges up and kisses him sweetly.

Louis sighs and lies back against the pillows. "Do you have condoms and-"

"Yeah," Harry responds, leaning over to his nightstand to grab a foil packet and a bottle of lube from the drawer. He drops them next to Louis's head as he dips in, placing his hands on Louis's smooth cheeks, and kisses his forehead, chin, and across his jaw.

Louis starts chuckling and swatting at Harry's arms. "Oi, enough with the romantics, Haz. Ya don't have to woo me." Harry sticks his tongue out at him and he snorts.

Harry sits back on his haunches, mumbling, "Always gotta woo you. Want this to be proper romantic for you, Lou," as he trails his fingers down Louis's flat stomach. He shivers as Harry gets closer and closer to the top of his boxers. Louis tips his head back, a small noise making its way from his throat. Harry dips his fingertips underneath, then lets the fabric snap back against Louis's skin. "Oops," he says with a sly grin.

"Oops my arse," Louis snarks with his eyes closed, a smile rising on his lips. He nudges Harry with his leg. "Hurry it up, old man."

Harry undoes the button to his jeans and slides the zipper down. "Old man? You're older than me, smart ass." He tugs the jeans down to his ankles, tossing them to the foot of the bed, and slides his hands up his bare thighs.

Louis wiggles his legs under the touch, a blush forming high on his cheeks. "If you were so young and spry, you'd be inside me by now." He grabs one of Harry's hands and brings it up to his lips, biting down playfully on his thumb.

"Yeah," is all he breathes out in response, trying to strip himself of his own jeans with one hand. It proves to be nearly impossible, and he ends up having to use both hands and lay flat on the bed just to shuffle his legs out of the tight material. Louis laughs at him, shoving his hips with his foot once his legs are free. His cock is thankful for the breathing room, but now all it wants is to be _inside inside inside_.

He sits up again and clamps down on Louis's ankles, pulling his body forward on the bed. Louis squawks, kicking out in protest, but Harry shushes him. He spreads his legs, trailing his fingers up to the waistband of his boxers. He doesn't tease any longer and pulls them down and off his legs. He instantly wraps his hand around Louis's dick and twists. Louis mewls, sinking back into the mattress in pleasure. "Knew you'd have a pretty cock, Lou, you're gorgeous." Harry gives him a few more pulls before reaching up and grabbing the bottle of lube next to his head.

He slicks up three of his fingers, some of the excess lube dripping onto Louis's belly. He winces from the cold, and then moans as he feels Harry prodding around his hole. Louis leans up, capturing Harry in a kiss as Harry pushes the first finger inside. It's a tight and perfect heat, and as Harry continues moving it, Louis relaxes, breathing hotly over Harry's lips.

He gives him just one finger for a few minutes until Louis asks for another, biting at Harry's jaw. He adds in a second finger, then a third a moment later and Louis arches up on the bed, a whine spilling from his lips. Harry keeps at a steady rhythm, twisting and scissoring his fingers, searching for the spot to send the boy under him reeling. Louis lets out a soft groan or whimper at each thrust now, but when Harry curls his fingers upwards just right, Louis moans brokenly, clutching at the grey sheets.

"Harry, I'm ready, fuck, _fuck_ , I'm good," he whines, now clawing at Harry's biceps with his sharp little nails.

Harry keeps thrusting his fingers in, though, pressing into his prostate over and over again. "Quite like you like this," he rasps, bending down and sucking a love bite high up on Louis's thigh. He hears Louis gasp and a piece of fabric rip above him. He comes up for air to see Louis thrashing his head from side to side, breathing heavy and leaking precome. "You're so easy for it."

Louis grinds down onto Harry's hand, shamelessly riding his fingers. Harry moans low at the sight, pressing hot kisses all along Louis's inner thigh. "Easy for you, H. Just you," Louis gasps out, hands gripping at Harry's shoulders again.

That does it for Harry. He leaves one last bite to Louis's thick thigh and withdraws his fingers from his hole. He wipes his hand off on the comforter, since he'll have to wash it afterwards anyways, and snags the condom from where it lays next to Louis. Louis sighs and squirms on the bed, mumbling, "empty" as Harry removes his briefs and flings them in the direction of his closet, cock finally free and flushed red.

"I know, love, I've got you," he whispers, rolling the condom on quickly and slicking his cock up with more of the lube. He kneels in between Louis's legs and places his elbows on either side of his head. He kisses his neck once, twice, and then repeats, "I've got you" as he guides his cock into Louis.

At first, all he feels is a white hot, searing pleasure and he has to stop and suck in a few breaths before sliding the rest of his cock in. Louis stills under him, digging his nails into his back and scratching along the skin, making small whimpering noises as he's filled even more. When Harry's hips are pressed against Louis's, they gasp into each other's mouth, kissing deeply until Louis says, "it's good, love, please move."

So Harry starts out with a slow, smooth rhythm, more focused on making Louis comfortable and pleased than anything else. Louis nips at his neck, dragging his thin fingers over the sweat that's started pooling in the dips of Harry's back. Harry praises him with, "God, so good, Lou, you look so pretty," and it has him pressing his fingertips in deeper. When Harry starts moving in harder, a little faster, he lets out these high keens that have Harry's head spinning.

It's so good, is the thing, and they both knew it would be, but it's so much more than good sex. It's their bond, their connection that been building up for years finally pouring out in this passionate display. Every touch of skin against skin and sweet air exchanged between mouths just reaffirming that they're it for each other. Harry sees this in Lou's eyes when he gasps out a breathless, "Harry".

He starts changing up his thrusts then, going at different angles to find his prostate and smiles widely once Louis opens his mouth in silent scream and wraps his whole body tightly around Harry's. "Yes," he moans, loud and drawn out, and Harry starts picking up speed. He fucks in deeper just to hear the breathless whines, just to feel how his body tries to keep him inside.

Harry's hitting his spot more often than not now, their bodies covered in lube, sweat, and precome, the bed's begun to creak against the wall, and Harry's smiling so wide he thinks his face might split. He nudges Louis's nose with his to get him to open his eyes and leans their foreheads together, whispering, "Hi."

Louis giggles, high and fucked out, but utterly joyful. "Hi," he whispers back, wrapping his fingers around Harry's necklace and pulling him in for a sweet kiss. Against his lips, he slurs, "I'm g'nna come."

Harry fucks into his body faster, and the kiss turns more into exchanging breath than pressing their lips together. Louis's body seizes up and he's practically screaming through his orgasm, but there's a big, crinkly grin on his face that Harry swears is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. It's all he's ever wanted to see.

Harry comes a moment later, biting down harshly on Louis's collarbone to keep his voice down- which was pointless, since Louis already alerted everyone in their apartment building of what they were doing. He keeps his head tucked into Louis's neck for a few minutes longer, just catching his breath, before pulling out of Louis and tying off the condom. He leans over the bed and tosses it away in the bin, rolling back over to where Louis still lays, calm and breathless.

Then, Louis turns over and presses himself into Harry's side, lightly tracing patterns into the damp skin over his heart. Harry grabs the duvet from where it slipped onto the floor and covers them both with it, cuddling closer into Louis's body.

And right before he falls into that deep, sated sleep, he ducks down to kiss Louis's forehead and whispers, "I've got you."


End file.
